


Broken and Bent

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blangst, Comfort/Angst, Hurt, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Angie (gleeddicted.tumblr.com) beautiful poster - see below</p><p>Blaine Anderson wears all his scars on his skin, for everyone to see - literally. He’d survived a hate crime, an abusive relationship, heartbreaks, and so many other things that he stopped counting them. But all his scars and wounds are visible, which makes his life even harder than it is.</p><p>That’s when he meets up-and-coming photographer, Kurt Hummel, who’s able to see the real beauty behind the many scars. He wants to take photos of Blaine, who’s scared to say yes, afraid of everyone and how they are going to treat him.</p><p>Kurt makes sure Blaine understand just how beautiful he is, inside and out, helping him through some of his worst days, having one-on-one sessions with him, taking photos to show him how he sees him, and maybe, as the night of Kurt’s first big exhibition comes nearer, Blaine starts loving himself again. And one morning, in the future, his scars starts fading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken and Bent

Some people wear their heart on their sleeve.

Some people are an open book.

And some people never completely heal.

Like Blaine Devon Anderson.

It starts in his childhood, when he falls off the lemon tree in the garden and sprains his wrist. Even once it sets back into place, the bruises never disappear completely, no matter what the doctors say.

When he gets into a fight over a stolen truck toy and little Jimmy Donovan hits him and cuts his upper lip open, the scar never fades away, making Blaine slightly self conscious and careful about what he says, to make sure that if he opens his mouth, and gets people to look at it, it’s for the good cause.

When he gets attacked for simply being himself, for being honest with who he is, his body keeps the traces of that attack long after he is out of the hospital bed.

Not just his face, but his whole body is marked by the attack, showing the damages done on his innocence.

Though he tries to protect his body and his soul from being damaged any more than it already is, Blaine keeps on getting hurt by the hits Life throws at him.

But he carries on, showing how truly strong he is. He doesn’t open up easily, sure, but he tries to act like he is not that different from the people around him.

After all, some of them wear the insults they got thrown at them on their skin, and Blaine doesn’t use that to appreciate their personalities, does he?

—-

Kurt considers himself lucky.

He wears his emotions on his sleeves, his flawless skin expressing his likes and dislikes in a flash, sure, but it disappears as quickly as it came up.

You have to be pretty observant to know what he really thinks, how he really feels, and Kurt usually keeps everybody at arms’ length. Then again, Kurt himself is pretty observant - an asset in his field of work.

Photography demands from its practitioners to observe, to pay attention to the details to catch the bigger picture - no pun intended.

Kurt has carved a path for himself in the world of up and coming photographers, his work possessing that multilayer quality that allows everybody to find something to relate to the picture.

He doesn’t stop himself from any subject : landscapes, fashion, portraits - of anonymous people that cross his way and celebrities anxious to show that they’re not shallow - and even a whole series of still-lives, and that contributes to his rising fame.

Now, he has an exhibition planned with [Yossi Milo](http://www.yossimilo.com/), and he wants to work on those individuals who don’t have his luck.

He already has a couple of models who agreed to let him capture their …

Well, Tina and Ryder call them their weaknesses, but Kurt calls them their assets.

Tina, with the way her hair change colors according to her mood, like a kaleidoscope of emotions, and Ryder, with the way the words he’s going to say appear on his skin before he can say them, making him stutter, are two extraordinary models, and the pictures he has taken of them reflect that quality.

But Kurt is not satisfied : this is his big break, the one exhibition that can make his career or break his momentum. He needs the “wow” factor, the one sub-series that will make the whole work shine.

Kurt pushes his camera and the mock-ups away from him, rubbing his eyes. Grabbing his good old Polaroid camera, he decides to go for a walk.

Nothing better than a wave of fresh air to clear his mind - besides, if he wants to meet his last model, he has to go out of the workshop, doesn’t he?

He meets a little girl with words scribbled on her fingers, a massive man with a bunny - a real fluffy bunny rabbit - jumping up and down his arms like an animated tattoo, and an old woman with wrinkles that smooth down when she starts talking about her life with Kurt, her skin showing her mental age.

For a moment, Kurt considers asking her - she is fascinating, and the way her face looks like a teenager’s when she mentions her trip through Europe right after World War II to help the displaced populations - when she gasps, and Kurt follows her eyes.

There is a young man walking down the park’s hill, the wind brushing his curly hair away from his face. His beautiful, out of this world face, covered in scars and cracks.

Life has obviously been a bitch with that man, and yet.

And yet he is smiling as he walks, eyes half closed as his lips move, obviously singing along whatever is going on in his ear buds, and Kurt is mesmerized by the man’s beauty.

"Go," the old woman says with a giggle, her eyes sparkling and her skin smoothed down like a 10 year-old’s. "He’s the one you’re looking for."

Kurt gathers his things, taking two Polaroids of Toni before leaving her, and he runs after the apparition that is turning his world upside down.

—

Blaine is lost in the music filling his ears - the fourth part of Dvorak’s Symphony No.9 is just starting, with that “Jaws” theme-like harmonies, and there is a light breeze that caresses his skin - for a moment, with the crescendos of the strings in his mind, Blaine feels … good.

"Excuse me?"

Through the music, he hears someone calling after him and though he doesn’t want to stop the music, he’s a gentleman, and if someone needs is help, he’ll do whatever he can.

The man in front of him is …

Out of this world, impossibly gorgeous.

A pang of jealousy goes through him as he takes in the flawlessness of his skin, but it quickly melts away. Blaine has a lifetime of meeting flawless people - he’s used to it by now.

"Hi," the other man says, a soft smile gracing his lips. Blaine returns the smile, but he can see the man’s blue eyes tracing the path of his scars across his face, across his neck, across his hands and he prays for a short encounter, for the man to be a tourist looking for the subway or for a restaurant, so he can go back to his music and to his life in peace.

"My name is Kurt," the man continues, voice soft and strangely calming, as he lifts his hand in an offering. Blaine shakes his hand, telling Kurt his name, and then waits for Kurt to tell him why he came to him, but the taller man seems lost in his appraisal of Blaine’s marks.

"How can I help you?" Blaine finally asks and Kurt seems to remember what made him run after Blaine in the first place.

"I work as a photographer," Kurt says, his fingers tapping on the top of his Polaroid camera - Blaine has one exactly like Kurt’s, except his is more battered up, which is not even remotely surprising. "I’m preparing an exhibition, and my subject is … oddities," he explains and Blaine feels frozen into place.

"Oddities?"

"Yes, the way the bodies of some individuals reflect who they truly are," Kurt replies, his eyes widening in his excitement, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but for a moment, Blaine could swear that a scribbled "beautiful" appears along Kurt’s cheekbone, but it’s gone before Blaine can look at it in detail.

"And I suppose you want …me?" Blaine asks, trying to quiet down the part of his brain that is screaming at him to run, run away. That he doesn’t deserve to even be seen with such a gorgeous man. That he shouldn’t inflict his ugliness onto the world.

A blush spreads on Kurt’s neck, and again, a flash of scribbled words appears on his face, across his nose like sun-kissed freckles - this time, it looks like “God yes” before disappearing - before Kurt clears his throat. “I think I would be able to capture your assets, yes - I think they would be the perfect centerpiece of my exhibit, actually,” Kurt adds with an embarrassed chuckle.

"I really don’t know," Blaine starts replying, taking one step back. Kurt’s eyes dart to his feet, but he stays silent. "I mean, that’s very flattering, sure, but I - I can’t - it’s not …"

"Hey," Kurt says softly, "I won’t force you, of course I won’t, but I could show you how I see you - I’m pretty sure we don’t see the same thing," he adds with a crooked smile. "I could show you what I’ve done with my other models?"

Blaine listens to him, listens to that stranger who is so gently insisting on taking pictures of _him_ , who is looking at him like all he sees fascinates him and he doesn’t know how to react.

People don’t usually actively look for his company, even less so to observe his markings, his scars.

"I," he starts, gulping and looking down. "I’ll think about it, ok?"

Kurt beams - fucking _beams_ \- at him and reaches for his back pocket, pulling a card. “Here is my studio’s number - I’m the only one working there, so … day and night, feel free to, um, call me,” he tells him and Blaine can only nod. “Even to tell me no - I’ll understand,” he adds, the tip of his fingers brushing against Blaine’s as he lets go of the plastic card.

"Goodbye, Kurt," Blaine says softly, turning back to go home, pushing the ear buds as deep as he can. On his way out of the park, his eyes meet those of an old lady who has an extraordinary smile.

"Trust Fate, young man," she says softly as she passes Blaine, and he repeats the sentence in his head a thousand times on his way to his apartment.

When he’s home, he takes his phone out of his pocket and after taking a deep breath, types the number on the pad.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kurt. It’s - it’s Blaine."

—-

_Two months later_

Kurt checks all of his cameras, all of his spotlights, but there is a part of his brain, a part that sounds strangely like his father, telling him that this is not like him, to be that nervous before a model’s arrival.

Then again, he has never felt more like a trainer getting ready to face a young, distrusting animal.

Blaine has come to the studio regularly in the past weeks, the two men talking about their lives and the more they talk, the more beautiful Blaine is in Kurt’s eyes.

How is he still so happy, so brave, so _strong_ , with everything that he has been through, it’s beyond his comprehension.

The more they talk, though, the more Kurt wants, needs Blaine to agree to be in his project.

Two days ago, Blaine turned to look at him on his way back to his apartment with a shy smile on his face.

_"Maybe … maybe we could give it a try?"_

And here they are.

The doorbell rings, and Kurt nearly jumps out of his skin, “Jesus Christ” and “fuckfuckfuck” flashing over his knuckles.

Blaine is standing on the other side of the door, wearing a soft looking sweater and slightly used but perfectly fitted jeans. The outfit screams “comfort”, or more precisely, “I need to make myself comfortable”, and Kurt smiles at him.

There is a stool ready for Blaine and Kurt stands next to his camera. “We’re just going to talk,” he says, explaining his process. “Only pay attention to me.”

He’s hidden behind his camera, making the final settings about focus and lightening to make sure that he can just use the automatic “trigger”, when Blaine replies. “That won’t be a hardship”, but when Kurt looks up with wide eyes, Blaine is simply smiling, like he didn’t just flirt with him so Kurt sets the sentence aside.

Blaine visually relaxes as they talk, his gaze only darting to the camera at the very beginning of the session, and Kurt just knows that a couple of shots, among the hundreds of pictures he took with his thumb pressed to the trigger, will be breathtaking.

He’s already pondering the merits of printing in colors or black and white, when Blaine reaches for the hem of his sweater. “What are you doing?” Kurt asks absentmindedly.

"It’s getting warm, under the light," Blaine says, voice muffled by the material of his sweater. He lets him fall to his feet, and Kurt looks at him in his white shirt with a deep v-neck. More scars appear, and Blaine’s beauty is even more obvious now that nothing hides him anymore.

"Oh Blaine," he says softly, and Blaine looks away in embarrassment, eyes closed for a moment, and Kurt takes the opportunity to snap as many pictures as he can. "You’re … you’re stunning."

Blaine opens his eyes again, looking at Kurt sideways and a soft smile stretching his lips. He just shakes his head, and Kurt takes a step forward. He lets go of the trigger - besides the fact that he’s stepping into his frame, he knows that he has his best shot already.

"You’re breathtaking, Blaine, more gorgeous than anybody I know."

Blaine looks down, eyes cast to his hands and Kurt covers them with his own hands. “Look at me,” he says softly and Blaine looks up.

There is so much pain, so much doubt in those amazing eyes that Kurt has to focus on his breathing. “Look at me when I say it,” he instructs. “You are beautiful, Blaine.”

Under Blaine’s observant eyes, a myriad of words flash on Kurt’s face - cheeks, nose, forehead and chin _._

_Beautiful_

_Gorgeous_

_Stunning_

_Adorable_

_Cute_

As he watches, another word appears over Kurt’s lip.

_Perfect_

Blaine gasps and blinks a couple of times, unable to find his voice.

"You see?" Kurt asks, his thumb brushing over one of Blaine’s scars on his knuckles. "You are more to me than what you think, than what you see."

Blaine stays silent, but he turns his hands to brush his own thumb against the soft skin of Kurt’s wrists.

"I’ll have to —"

"Think about it, I know," Kurt cuts with his special Blaine crooked smile. "Good thing you have my phone number, eh?"

"Indeed," Blaine replies, letting go of Kurt’s hands and reaching for his sweater. "Coffee tomorrow, as usual?"

Kurt nods, digging his hands into his pockets, letting Blaine’s eyes roam over his face - he knows that the words “best part of my week” must flash somewhere.

Once the door is closed, Kurt gives himself a moment away from the camera, just long enough to wolf down a bowl of cereals and drink one liter of water, before he can’t take it anymore and he rushes to the studio and his lab.

Several pictures are discarded - Blaine was passionate about whatever they were talking about and moved right when Kurt pressed the button, or the shadows are the wrong way - and then Kurt has to remember to breathe.

Because there it is.

Blaine’s eyes are closed, his lips parted and his curls slightly ruffled by the sweater he had just taken off. The lights fall softly on his face, all of his scars highlighted but not in a bad way. There is a peace in that moment, in that picture, that truly takes Kurt’s breath away.

Kurt prints it in color and black and white, just to give himself options, but he already knows that Blaine’s sub-series will be entirely in black and white - Kurt’s tribute to the dapper and old school vibe given by his friend.

The next morning, though, Blaine isn’t at the door of the coffee shop where they have met every other day for the past two months.

Twenty minutes later, he’s still not here and Kurt is worried. Blaine doesn’t answer his phone either, so he goes back to the counter, asks for the drinks to go and rushes to Blaine’s apartment.

"Blaine?" he calls, knocking the metal door. "Blaine, if you’re here, answer me!"

"Go away."

Blaine’s voice is small - Kurt’s brain supplies the word “terrified” to describe it - on the other side of the door, and Kurt knocks again.

"Blaine, please," he begs, "let me in. I was scared out of my mind."

A lock is turned, and the door opens against Kurt’s push.

"Blaine?" Kurt calls, finding his friend sitting on the floor next to the door, body curved in a tight ball. "What is going on?"

"I don’t know," Blaine mumbles, face hidden between his legs.

"Blaine, look at me," Kurt says as he sits next to Blaine on the hard floor.

Blaine’s shoulders lift as he takes a deep breath before lifting his head, and Kurt gasps.

Because the scar over Blaine’s lip? It’s closing, looking barely pale red.

The scar that ran across his nose? Looks like it’s sewing itself up.

"What is going on?" Kurt repeats uselessly, reaching to touch but stopping himself just before actually brushing his fingertips against Blaine’s skin. Blaine looks at him more clearly, an hysterical giggle escaping his lips. "What?" Kurt asks, bewildered by his friend’s reaction.

"You have," Blaine starts, a hiccup cutting him mid sentence, "you have question marks all over your face, it’s … It’s adorable,", he concludes, looking away with one more giggle.

Kurt pockets that compliment for future analysis, and he thinks about what could have caused such a change in Blaine’s Oddity.

He has heard of such changes, of course - there are rumors, urban legends even, that some of them are “cured” when the carrier learns to accept them and make them an asset.

Up til now, Kurt didn’t believe in it because, a) you can’t be cured of something that is not an illness, and b) it sounds way too 1970s “Love is all”, even for him.

But now, with the proof of a drastic change taking place in Blaine’s case, Kurt has to wonder.

"What happened last night?"

Blaine keeps his eyes away from Kurt, but he doesn’t cover his face with his arms either. “After leaving your place, I just … I just came home and …”

"And?"

"And looked at all my scars, and trying to apply your truth to them."

"My truth?"

Blaine turns his head this time, his amber eyes finding Kurt’s. “You know what I mean.”

Oh, Kurt knows what he means alright. “Oh?”

"And it was like I could see myself through your eyes," Blaine continues. "Like I could see how this is not all ugliness. Like it shows that I’m a survivor and not a victim."

Kurt nods enthusiastically, his hands landing on Blaine’s forearms. “Blaine, it’s fantastic!”

"You’re not mad?" Blaine asks, voice returning to its small, fragile quality and Kurt frowns.

"Why would I be mad?"

Blaine sighs. “Because my scars were what really interested you - your whole project …”

Kurt rolls his eyes but keeps on smiling at him. “Ok, first of all, last night gave me all I could possibly need. Second of all, you’ve always been more than your scars to me. Sure, they drew me to you, but that’s …” Kurt has to take a deep breath, his fingers tightening on Blaine’s arms as “best friend” and “so much more” flash across the back of his hands. “That was before I knew you.”

"Knew me?"

"There is so much to know about you , Blaine," Kurt insists, "so much I want to know."

His cheeks burn when he sees the words “your taste,” “your moans” and more embarrassingly, “your ass”, flash on his forearms. Blaine’s eyes follow them as they appear and disappear and he smiles at Kurt hesitantly.

"What about a coffee first?" he asks, and Kurt has just the time to look at the scar over Blaine’s lips closing completely before they meet his own.

It’s like the stars are aligned, like the world is finally spinning the right way, like everything in Kurt’s life makes sense because it lead him to this moment, to this meeting, to this man.

This incredible man who kisses like it’s his mission in life to keep Kurt from being in control of his lungs.

"Perfect," Blaine breathes when Kurt pulls away, and Kurt doesn’t even need to reply : the word is covering his body in a strange pattern, intertwining with his veins and blinking to the erratic rhythm of his heart.

"I love you," he says before he can stop himself, and Blaine beams at him.

"I love you too," Blaine says, lifting Kurt’s hand to press a kiss to his fingers.

"Do you love you?" Kurt asks, and Blaine turns their hands to show his knuckles to Kurt. The scars and welts are slowly healing, right under Kurt’s eyes.

"With you as my teacher," Blaine says slowly, carefully picking his words, "I could."


End file.
